


Fuck off, Steve

by P0tatonoah



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Christmas, Crack?, Elf!Aaron can't handle christmas joy, Elf!Foxes, M/M, is this fluff? Honestly I don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28117107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P0tatonoah/pseuds/P0tatonoah
Summary: Kevin is wrapping a football, ocean green eyes squinting, tongue sticking out in concentration. “Aaron? Don’t just stand there sighing longingly, help the boys with their wrapping.” Steve says behind me, Damn you Steve. “Go on, no need to blush.” He adds, waving me on. Damn you tohell.
Relationships: Implied Andrew Minyard/Neil Josten, Kevin Day/Aaron Minyard
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Fuck off, Steve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alex_wh0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_wh0/gifts).



> Hi Ms.Glasses, hope you enjoy this nonsense :DD
> 
> Also, I don't know what this is. As you know, my brain is weird.

“Cheer up Aaron, it’s Christmas!” I hear Renee say, full of joy and sparkles and bullshit. Yeah, it is Christmas which means we have to work double, triple as much. “Ho, fucking, ho.”

We used to have more help, more elves coming in to help us sort out the toys and spread the happiness to snotty little fuckers. But Santa thought we were getting too impersonal, like some big toy corporation or whatever. So now it’s just a handful of us, running like crazy to get things done.

Well, there are a couple of temps. This Neil dude, shady AF if you ask me, and Kevin. Freakishly tall, green eyed Kevin. He’d been working at the painting station until Steve decided to relocate him “Your artistic skills are a bit lacking, Kev. But no worries, we have just the perfect job for you.” He'd said cheerfully, whisking Kevin away. _“Yee ArTisTic SkIlLs ar LaCkIng, Kev.”_ Fucking Steve. Now my ~~crush~~ skilled colleague has to spend his days wrapping sticks and balls at the sports section, all the way across the compound.

“Hey, whatcha scowling about?” That’s Nicky, always up in my business like he’s Mother Christmas. I redirect my scowl at him “Nosy elves that don’t do their jobs?” He fake gasps and says “I’ll have you know I finished my quota. I’m off to help the temps, poor guys can’t tie a bow-“

“I'll do it!” I say, not at all suspiciously and, without waiting for a response, throw the doll I’d been painting at him.

When I get to the sports section, Neil is strangling a baseball bat with silky tape. The way it looks like he’s done this too many times before puts me off a bit, but then I see _him_. Kevin is wrapping a football, ocean-green eyes squinting, tongue sticking out in concentration. “Aaron? Don’t just stand there sighing longingly, help the boys with their wrapping.” Steve says behind me, Damn you Steve. “Go on, no need to blush.” He adds, waving me on. Damn you to _hell_.

I position myself next to Kevin, our elbows touching every time he folds the wrapping paper. I could scoot to the left and give him more space, but Neil’s staring murderously at a pair of cleats holding his scissors with a tight grip. Not getting anywhere near _that_. 

As I mind my business, totally focused on the gifts in front of me, I see Kevin smile in my peripheral vision. He’s holding a wooden racket, it’s big and orange and it fits right in his hand. I turn to face him, not swooning or anything. “That's one of Andrew’s.” I say nodding at the racket. "Who’s Andrew?” He asks studying the long stick a moment longer before those eyes finally rest on me. “My brother. Twin. You know, we share a face,” I sputter and grimace on the inside. He quirks his beautifully shaped eyebrows and says “Looks pretty good, he seems talented.” To which I respond with a mumbled “Yeah, I guess.”

Don’t get me wrong, Andrew _is_ good at what he does, and I _am_ proud of him. I’m just never saying that out loud. Especially to my coworker ~~who I want to smash face with~~. So we fall back to the comfortable silence and stolen glances. Mostly my stolen glances, but I could swear I saw those stormy pools of green looking at me once or twice. 

I’m lost in my thoughts when I hear a loud curse and look over to see Neil holding his finger tightly. “Everything ok in there?” I ask looking from his rapid paling face to the blood gushing out of his finger. “Yep, I’m good, just a little nick.” He says before rushing to the bathroom. “That guy is… something.” I say smartly. Kevin smiles shyly and I’m about to say something funny and cute that will totally get me more of those perfect smiles when Steve materializes out of nowhere to tell me to go check on the bleeding newbie. 

“… hope he falls off a cliff and dies.” I mumble as I open the bathroom door. I’m not quite sure how to process what I see. Neil is sitting on the sink, looking gently at… my brother (?) who is expertly stitching the cut on his finger. Andrew’s got this weird look on his face, like he’s worried but the softness of it is just alien to me. Well, they look like they’ve got this figured out so I quickly walk out of the bathroom, and immediately bump on a solid wall of muscle. It smells like mint leaves and baked cookies and lets out an _oomph_ that has me shivering. “Careful there,” Kevin says, placing his hand on the small of my back to steady me. Do I still have legs? I can’t feel them.

Clearing my throat I tentatively hold him by the waist, leading him away from the bathroom. “You don’t wanna get in there." He looks confused, but lets me guide him away. We walk side by side to our stations, knuckles brushing ever so slightly. The heat in my neck and ears is almost unbearable when I finally muster enough courage to ask him “Kevin, um, are you free… I mean, do you want to grab me-" I shake my head, "t-to grab dinner… tonight… with me?” _Yikes_. His green gaze locks on mine and god he looks cute when he blushes. “I-“ He starts saying when I feel a hand grabbing me by the shoulder. “Aaron, Kev, there you are. Gifts are not going to wrap themselves. C’mon, we’ve got Christmas joy to deliver!" Singing a stupid carol about having a gay Christmas, Steve pushes us to our stations and takes Neil’s place at my left. 

Fuck you Steve. Fuck you very, very much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated.


End file.
